


It Bears Repeating

by wordywarrior



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordywarrior/pseuds/wordywarrior
Summary: Summary: Sometimes, you just need to hear it said again.





	It Bears Repeating

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Mild angst, fluff, slight NSFW

 

 

There were a lot of perks to being obsessed with crime-drama televisions shows. For example – there were so many different types, and a series could go on forever, which meant there was always something to watch. A bad guy, no matter how crafty or sly, always got his due, which was always good.

And of course, the whole learning multiple ways to make someone’s death look like an accident or how to completely destroy a body without leaving evidence – yeah, that was Y/N’s favorite part at the moment.

For whatever reason, Chris had chosen to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. From the moment those beautiful, blue peepers opened, he’d been crabby as hell, and Y/N didn’t know why. They hadn’t even gotten dressed for the day, and yet, something had set him off. The brattier his behavior, the more annoyed she got, and instead of him simply telling her what he was upset about, he stomped around the house, and pouted like a petulant child.

His grumbling and huffing – it had been going on for two hours. Hence the reason why Y/N was sitting on the couch, watching re-runs of NCIS, and making mental notes on how she could kill him and get away with it.

“I don’t like it,” Chris bit out, throwing his hands in the air. “I just don’t.”

Picking up on the distress in his tone, Y/N immediately paused the episode, and sat both the remote and her coffee mug down on the table. His crankiness had turned into outright agitation, which was making him pace and mutter. What’d she’d mistaken for a grumpiness was actually a low-level anxiety attack.

Chris could handle a crisis better than anyone she’d ever met, but it was often the little things that could put him into a bit of a tailspin, which was why he prioritized and compartmentalized where he put his mental and emotional efforts. He pushed himself to do the things he was most uncomfortable with – like socializing with larger groups and yes, even attending events and functions related to his job. Being into fitness, keeping a diary, and taking time away – they were all ways of coping.

Y/N knew Chris had high-functioning anxiety and struggled with depression. When they first started dating, he’d hidden from her – he’d been too afraid to let her in that far. After Y/N made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere, the walls surrounding his world began coming down, and the more he revealed to her, the more she fell in love with him.

But he wasn’t perfect. And she didn’t need him to be.

Even after almost two years together, Chris was still learning how to talk to her. He’d been so used to processing things on his own that he would sometimes forget she wasn’t just there for him when things were easy. Being there for someone during the high points took no effort at all. Being a true partner to someone during the low points – that was harder.

Knowing something was wrong, Y/N checked her own attitude, turned the television off, and took her mug to the kitchen. When she returned, Chris was no longer in the living room, but Y/N knew he wouldn’t be hard to locate. She headed down the hall to their bedroom, which was where he liked to retreat when things were too much, and found him sitting on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands.

Y/N had learned rather early on that prompting him to speak sometimes made him shut down even more. Physical comfort – even just the gentlest of touches – often brought him around much faster, and when she carded her fingers though his hair, he sighed, and leaned into her caress. She knew he was already feeling better by the way his shoulders sagged with relief, and when he encircled her in his arms and pressed his face to her stomach, Y/N knew he was ready to talk.

“Hey,” Y/N murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “What’s going on?”

“They want me to go alone,” Chris finally said in a slightly muffled voice.

“Of course, they do,” she replied with a shrug. “The movie comes out in three months and caters to a particular demographic. They want you to appear single.”

“But I’m not single.”

Y/N gasped and feigned surprise, “Really? Who is the lucky woman?”

Chris snorted, lifted his head, and met her eyes, “How does this not bother you?”

“Why should it?” she asked, with no trace of humor. “We agreed we’d like to keep your public world out of our private world for a while. Have you changed your mind?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I’m just – I don’t know,” Chris replied, fumbling for the right words. “I’m not ready to share you. I also don’t like being told appear alone. I’m a walking contradiction.”

Y/N laughed shook her head, “Look, I get it. You’d like to be able to take your girlfriend out in public without being accosted, but you also value our privacy. That doesn’t make you a walking contradiction, Chris – it makes you human.”

He hung his head and let out a low groan of frustration, “Don’t you get tired of it, though? Tired of me? Tired of hearing me dodge questions when anyone asks if I’m seeing someone? You keep a separate place just for pretense. Doesn’t it just–”

“I don’t care about any of that,” she interjected. “Understand?”

“Yeah.”

The off-handed, dejected tone of his voice was hard to hear. Y/N knew he was coming down off the ledge, but she also knew there were niggling doubts in the back of his mind, and she needed to silence them. Wanting to make herself absolutely clear, Y/N placed her hands on either side of his face, tilted his head up, and forced him to meet her gaze.

“I won’t ever get tired of you and I’m not going anywhere,” Y/N stated unflinchingly. “I love you. Do you understand?”

Chris swallowed hard and nodded, “Yes, I understand.”

Y/N let out a sigh of relief and hugged him. Chris returned her embrace by holding her tightly and resting his head on her chest. She knew her words had comforted him, and the longer she rubbed his shoulders and stroked his hair, the calmer he became.

A few minutes later, Chris was making noises of contentment, which meant his anxiety attack had truly passed. When he looked up at her again, the expression on his face was a combination of awe and hunger. The gleam in his eye bespoke of his need, and Y/N didn’t protest when he pulled at the drawstring on her pajama pants, and pushed them and the underwear from her hips.

“I think I need to hear it again,” Chris murmured.

Holding her breath, she watched him remove his shirt, and rise up just enough to yank his shorts off. Just the sight of him made her move in closer, but it was his strength that lifted her from the floor and onto the bed.

Straddling his thighs, Y/N raised her arms over her head, and when the t-shirt was discarded, she leaned down, and captured his mouth with hers. The kiss was equal parts tender and passionate – the physical expression of the emotional words they’d just shared. While Y/N had used her hands comfort and sooth, Chris used his to arouse and dispel the tension, and within minutes, their bodies were joined.

“Say it,” Chris rasped in her ear as he guided her hips.

“I won’t ever get tired of you,” Y/N replied breathlessly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“And?” he prompted lowly.

Y/N dug her nails into his shoulder, “I love you.”

As the intensity of their love making increased, Chris asked her to keep repeating the words she’d spoken, and Y/N did so without reservation. When he began to echo the sentiment, his voice was raw and vulnerable, and as they fell apart in each other’s arms, Y/N knew another one of the carefully constructed walls Chris built around himself had finally been torn down.

“This is how the day should have started,” Chris said in a gravelly voice.

Y/N lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him gently, “We can hit the reset button if you want?”

“Yes, please.”

Untangling their limbs, Y/N stood from the bed, and stretched languidly, “Shower first or breakfast first?”

He hummed thoughtfully, “I’d like to look at you naked a while longer.”

“Shower it is, then.”

Moving from the bed to the bathroom was relatively easy, but getting out of the shower was harder. By the time they’d satiated their appetite for each other, they were both grumbling about having to make food. Breakfast got made faster because they worked together as a team, and after they’d eaten their fill, Chris snuggled on the couch with her, and resumed the show she’d been watching.

“You really like this?” he asked. “I’m feeling a little peculiar already and I’ve only seen one episode.”

Y/N sipped her coffee and shrugged, “I find it interesting.”

After a few more episodes – especially the ones where the mystery was solved and the good guys won – Chris began to get really into it, and wanted to marathon the season. In preparation for the long haul, Y/N laid down, and propped a pillow beneath her head. They watched six more episodes before breaking for lunch. After gathering some snacks and queuing up the next episode, Y/N took up her lounging position again while Chris stood next to the couch and stretched.

“You know, you could learn how to hide a dead body by watching this,” he stated thoughtfully.

The irony of his remark wasn’t lost on her and it made her laugh.

Chris turned and looked down at her, “You were thinking about killing me this morning, weren’t you?”

She scoffed and averted her gaze, “What? Never!”

“You totally were! Admit it!”

Y/N could tell by the playfulness of his tone that he was toying with her. She also knew he wouldn’t let it go until she confessed. When Y/N hedged and said maybe – for the briefest of moments – she considered it, Chris laughed, shook his head, and set his bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

“You know, I might be willing to forgive you,” he teased, planting one knee on the cushion by her knees.

“Really?” she asked, feigning contriteness as she made room for him.

Chris laid down on top of her and settled in, “Well, I can think of one thing…”

Y/N tilted her head up to meet his eyes, “Which is?”

The smile that spread across his face could only be described as mischievous and the way he kissed her was just as wicked. It wasn’t until they were both naked from the waist down and the couch was moving across the floor with each thrust that Chris finally told her what it would take for him to absolve her.

“Say it again,” he growled in her ear. “Just keep saying it.”

Y/N let the words tumble from her lips, and just like that, she was forgiven.


End file.
